50 THETARPON 



town landing, and invariably our longing pointed 

 to the mouth of the Tuxpam canal. There, at ebb 

 tide, the water from the narrow canal forms a 

 pretty rip with the river's mighty current, and 

 indeed, it is a bit of ideal fishing ground. Hardly 

 can one fail to get a strike if the line is properly 

 trolled through the ripples and eddies only a few 

 yards in extent. The water constantly dances and 

 flashes and small fish are flying and leaping away 

 from the frequent 'chook* of the big jaws that 

 pursue. Here are sharks, jewfish, yellow-tail and 

 here was the record tarpon. 



"On the morning in question, we made no pre- 

 tence of hiding our preference, and, having the 

 use of the trim little launch, Tal Vez, we towed 

 our small boat straight to our favorite spot. Alas, 

 we had miscalculated the tide, which was just on 

 the flood. We waited not, however, for time or 

 tide, but cast our lines and soon came a fierce 

 strike, stronger even than the kind one feels when 

 dreamily thinking about tarpon fishing. Out ran 

 my line, the fish heading up the canal, and my 

 spasm of excitement and joy soon subsided for no 

 tarpon leaped into the air. My boatman, Apo- 

 lonio, expressed my disappointment: "A shark, 

 senor, it is a shark; have a care for your line!" 

 I had a vision of broken tackle, even of loss of rod 

 and reel, and all the time I was fighting against 

 the mammoth tugs and runs, in grim determina- 

 tion to die hard, yet without hope of victory. Up 

 the canal we were carried, hauling, heaving, pump- 



